


Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely

by grahamhannah53



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: John Emerich Edward Dalberg-Acton, Jotunn | Frost Giant, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, complete trash, idk yall, kinda??, power
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 06:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13565085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grahamhannah53/pseuds/grahamhannah53
Summary: (This takes place before the beginning of Thor: The Dark World.)Loki is imprisoned and the reader can feel his power even as he is incapable of using it outside of his cell. She is drawn to him, and he rewards her curiosity. Thanks to @just-a-fiction-lover on tumblr for encouraging me to get off my lazy can and actually write something <3





	Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely

_ Absolute power corrupts absolutely. _

 

That phrase was buried somewhere in the piles among piles of books stacked in the royal library of Asgard, half-hadden and half-forgotten with the rest of the midgardian literature, but the message lingered in (y/n)’s mind, chasing her as she slipped down the empty corridor as swift and silent as a shadow. The only thing that lit her path was the occasional torch hanging from the wall, casting shadows that resembled the monsters her old nanny would tell her about before bed. How ironic that she should be fleeing to the den of monsters instead of away from it.

 

_ Absolute power corrupts absolutely _ .

 

Her heartbeat roared in her ears as she pressed herself into the back side of a marble column, narrowly missing being seen by the guards that were making their nightly rounds. Along with the roar of her pulse, a softer, sweeter melody rang in her ears-- that of perfectly good advice going unheeded.  _ Turn back _ , a voice seemed to say to her, prickling the hairs on her neck.  _ Something dark lies ahead. Something evil. _

 

But what is evil? The absence of good? Without evil, good cannot exist. There is no such thing as good or evil-- only power and lack thereof.

 

_ Absolute power corrupts absolutely. _

 

Good little ladies didn’t sneak about at night without a trace of good intentions. Obedient daughters and potential brides weren’t supposed to disappear when the sun hides its face, fleeing to places built for the wicked and the wretched. There were too many things that could happen to one so young and naïve-- awful, terrible, unthinkable things-- but (y/n) was drawn to the power that seeped out of that place, that dungeon full of men and monsters, like a moth to a flame. There was so much of it, that raw, base energy, that she could feel it under her feet as they touched the marble floor. Even if she could stop herself,  she knew that she wouldn’t-- what she sought was worth more than anything else in the nine realms. It drew her in like a moth to a flame, and every step she took brought her closer to losing control of her mind entirely.

 

_ Absolute power corrupts absolutely. _

 

Cell after cell she passed, but none of them were what (y/n) was looking for. 

 

_ Absolute power corrupts absolutely. _

 

“Hello, sweetling.”

 

That voice was enough to freeze (y/n) in her tracks. It was charged with a certain energy that turned the air metallic in her mouth and made her every hair stand on end. It was a rich voice, deep and velvety, like the feeling of the finest fur gliding across her skin.

She had never heard it in her life, but she would know it anywhere.

 

_ I must not look,  _ she thought, pulling the silk of her headscarf over her nose and mouth.  _ If I look, I am lost. _

 

“Tsk. You needn’t be afraid, girl. This monster is in a cage. I couldn’t hurt you if I wanted to.” There was a pause, quiet enough for (y/n) to hear her heart hammering. Then the voice spoke again, this time more firmly. “Look at me.”

 

(Y/n)’s eyes fluttered closed against the temptation to obey the command. Slowly, ever so slowly, she shook her head, fighting with every fiber of her being to maintain her conviction.

 

“ _ Look, _ ” the prisoner snarled, the velvet of his voice turned to thunder.  _ “Look at me _ . _ ” _

 

(Y/n) could bear it no longer, and like a sparrow can be caught by the gaze of a cobra, so was she captured by the weight of this man’s-- this  _ monster’s _ \-- stare. When their eyes met, a carnivorous grin cracked across that fair, kingly face, and (y/n) forgot how to breathe.

 

“Loki.” The name was out of (y/n)’s mouth before she’d realized that she had regained the power to speak. “Prince of Asgard, God of Mischief and Lies.”

 

“In the flesh,” Loki purred, approaching the wall of his cell to peer more closely at her. “And you are?”

 

“(Y/n),” she replied, never taking her eyes of him as she stepped back, terrified.

 

Loki raised a brow at her. “Only (y/n)? You must have a surname, else you would not be here, and clothed so finely. You do not trust me.” He paused for a moment, considering. “You are wise not to say, sweetling. Names are power--”

 

“--and power corrupts,” (y/n) finished, unable to stop herself from interjecting. 

 

_ Absolute power corrupts absolutely.  _

 

“Not quite what I was going for, ” Loki mused, pacing a bit. “But I do so like the way you think. It’s so… refreshing.” He grinned nastily, as though that meant something vile.

 

“Thank you, my lord,” she replied, her voice laden with the fear that coiled in her gut.

 

_ I should leave,  _ she thought, swallowing thickly.  _ I should never have come in the first place. _

 

It was too late now for such thoughts, for she was stuck to this spot as though her feet had been welded there, her blood rushing through her veins like fire.

“So,” Loki drawled, crouching down so elegantly that (y/n) couldn’t help but be reminded of a great panther, ready to pounce. “What brings a dove like you down to a pit of adders, hm? Something might happen to you without someone to protect you. Something  _ terrible. _ ”

 

“I don’t know, my lord,” (y/n) replied, eyes downcast so that she wouldn’t reveal anything that she did not already know. 

 

(Y/n) felt more that saw Loki smirk. “Oh darling, I believe you do. Tell me, what do you feel?”

 

The fallen prince lifted his hands, and (y/n) felt gentle hands slide over her shoulders, making her shiver so violently that she threw her head back. One of the phantom hands left her shoulder to brush (h/c) locks from her face as the other pulled off her headscarf to reveal her face and hair. 

 

“Such a lovely girl,” Loki murmured as the phantom hands that he controlled massaged between her shoulder blades. “I can smell your fear as much as I can feel your desire. Tell me what it is that you want.”

 

“I don’t--” she began, but the Asgardian prince cut her off.

 

“ _ Yes you do _ .” The irises of Loki’s eyes were as harsh and solid as the emeralds they were colored after. “All you have to do is say it.”

 

The air was heavy, far too heavy, and (y/n) found it harder and harder to breathe the longer she looked at him. 

 

“Tell me,” he commanded, and (y/n) felt the breath of his words on her neck, despite being nowhere near him. “What is it that you want? What brought you here, little dove?”

 

“Power,” she gasped. The answer was ripped from her throat as though she were possessed.

“To be in it or near it?” he queried as the phantom hands drifted to her face.

 

“Near it.”  _ Near you _ .

 

“Then close your eyes, little dove, and fly with me.”

 

It never even occurred to (y/n) to resist. Her eyes fluttered closed, and when she reopened them, she was somewhere else entirely. She felt an icy cold hand touch her through the thin silk of a dress she did not remember wearing-- a dress colored gold and green, the colors of the fallen prince of Asgard...

 

The selfsame prince to whom those cold, wandering hands belonged.

“Why, sweetling, your subconscious is quite fascinating,” Loki mouthed into her ear, his body pressing against her back. “I love what you’ve done with the place-- your taste is exquisite.”

 

(Y/n) looked around at the room they were now occupying, eyes wide with wonder.

 

_ I imagined this?  _ she wondered, breathless at the beauty that surrounded her.  _ How could I even dream of something so magnificent? _

 

The room was similar to what a royal bedchamber might look like. There was a giant canopied bed, covered with layers and layers of fur, next to which there was a nightstand stacked high with leather bound books. The floor was made of beautiful mosaic tiles that drew lovely, intricate patterns so perfect that one could lose oneself just looking at them, and off to the far left were iridescent curtains blowing in the breeze that came in from the balcony. From where (y/n) stood, she could see the moon through those curtains, full and bright against the backdrop of night.

 

It was perfect.

 

It was  _ impossible _ .

 

“You would be surprised at what is possible, girl,” Loki chuckled, walking over to the bed. “Join me.”

 

Seemingly unable to refuse her prince, (y/n) complied, realizing what she was and was not wearing.

 

_ I’ve not got on any knickers, _ she surmised, mortified as she raised a knee to climb on the bed.  _ Did I really imagine this, or was that his doing? _

 

“Do you want to feel power?” Loki asked, reclining onto a goose down pillow as he kicked off his boots. “Answer me.”

 

“Yes, my lord.” (Y/n)’s voice sounded desperate and strange, even to herself. “Please, my lord.”

 

“Then kiss me,” he grinned, his eyes full of mischief. “Come close, sweet girl. Distance, unlike power, is so impersonal.”

 

(Y/n) all but crawled to him, tentatively placing one of her knees between his legs and her hands on either side of his head. She looked down at him as her hair fell in her eyes, and she found her herself frozen there, unable to move. 

 

Loki chuckled darkly, propping up on one elbow so that his mouth would be right next to her ear. 

“I can smell your fear. You reek of it. Kiss me, sweetling, and fear no longer.” 

 

A fleeting moment of uncertainty passed through her mind, but when Loki’s hand trailed the length of (y/n)’s spine, all the boldness of a tigress surged through her and she kissed him gently on the mouth.

 

(Y/n) felt Loki smile against her lips, and what came next was anything but gentle.

 

In one swift motion, Loki flipped their positions and took her bottom lip in his teeth. A rush of cold hit (y/n)’s throat and burned down her esophagus as though she’d breathed pure ice. Her lungs were burning with cold as the least beloved prince of Asgard shoved his tongue past her lips and into her mouth, and something about that moment became  _ electric _ . She was gasping for the breath that hurt so badly that she couldn’t even scream, and she kept wanting  _ more _ .

 

Then, like a wave crashing against the shore, Loki pulled away, stopping the cold, and (y/n)’s chest heaved in a horrid sort of relief.

 

“That,” Loki growled, eyes blazing, “Is the feeling of power.”

 

There was no hesitation in (y/n) whatsoever. 

 

“Again,” she all but moaned. “Please, my lord, I want to feel it again.”

 

“I suppose it would be cruel of me to deny one so desperate,” Loki mused, his light tone in stark contrast with the tight fist his hand made in (y/n)’s hair. “The question is whether or not that’s the sort of cruelty you long for.”

 

The bottom of (y/n)’s belly tightened, and she instinctively pressed her thighs together in a subconscious effort to conceal her desire. All she succeeded in doing was brushing her knee against the fabric of Loki’s trousers.

 

“Please, my lord, I beg you,” she whispered, nearly shaking with want-- no,  _ need _ . “I want-- I can’t--”

 

“Luck is on your side tonight, sweetling,” Loki chuckled. “I’m feeling benevolent.”

 

Their lips met again, and more of that searing cold rushed through every in of (y/n)’s body. It was such an overwhelming sensation that she very nearly did not feel Loki’s hand slip up her leg past the slit in her skirt and find its way between her legs.

 

And  _ oh,  _ when he touched her, when one of his long, elegant fingers caressed the folds of her sex, (y/n) threw her head back and nearly cried for pleasure.

 

_ No mortal man could make  woman feel such a way,  _ (y/n) thought as his tongue lapped into her mouth.  _ I am surely at the mercy of a god. _

 

“That’s it,” Loki praised as she bucked her hips. “Show me what makes you  _ wild _ .”

 

It was all too much to take in-- his power surging through her, his hands, his mouth, all of it was overwhelming in the best of ways. (Y/n) knew the very moment that he leaned back on his heels to admire the handiwork of his mouth along her neck that she would let him do anything to her to keep this feeling. She was completely at his mercy, and it was  _ beautiful _ .

 

“You wear ambition like the poorest of beggars and power like the grandest of queens,” Loki marveled, smirking as he smoothed a hand up her thigh. “Tell me, if I told you that you could bear the seed of a king, would you? If I so allowed, would you ride the cock of a god?”

 

_ Would I ? _

 

“Yes my lord.”

 

_ I’d kill for it. _

 

“Then show me how much you want that.”

 

Once Loki was laid bare beneath her, (y/n) once again felt the uncertainty that had plagued her before. To see such a beautiful, perfectly made creature was intimidating at best, and disheartening at worst. What could her mortal body, weak and plain as it was, possibly offer him? How could she please a god when she didn’t even know how to please a man?

 

Wordless for once, Loki grabbed her by the hips and guided her to where he wanted her. With slow, deliberate movements, (y/n) lowered herself onto his hard, leaking cock, shivering with every new sensation. After a moment of adjusting to the feeling of being  _ so incredibly full _ , she slowly, tentatively began to lift her hips, and Loki’s hands guided her back down as she began to set a steady, comfortable pace that drove her closer and closer to madness with every movement she made.

 

“You are truly divine,” Loki groaned, beginning to piston his hips as his dilated eyes met hers. “Worthy of the finest crown in all the nine realms.”

 

“L-Loki,” (Y/n) panted, feeling herself contract. “Loki, I’m-I’m--”

 

“Come, my darling,” Loki commanded, his nails digging into her hips. “Let yourself go.”

 

Shortly after (y/n)’s orgasm, Loki released inside of her, filling her with his seed. Shaking with pleasure and exertion, (y/n) all but collapsed onto the bed, her chest heaving and muscles aching.

 

“Rest, my sweet, but do not think that you are done for the night,” Loki murmured, brushing hair away from (y/n)’s ear. “We have only just begun.”

 

Her entire body shuddered at that, and Loki chuckled.

 

“Oh darling, this is going to be fun.”

  
  


***

  
  


(Y/n) woke to sunlight streaming in through her window and the feeling of slickness between her thighs. Remembering the events of the night before, she sat bolt upright, eyes flinging open like the shutters of houses along the street in the afternoon-- which turned out to be a horrible idea, since not only did every inch of her body, right down to the tip of her toes, ache with soreness, but once her eyes adjusted to the light, she realized that her her heart was sore too. She was all alone in her own chambers.

 

_ It was all a dream,  _ she lamented silently, tears prickling in her eyes.  _ All a wonderful, heartbreakingly beautiful dream. _

 

Grief hung heavily on her shoulders, and thinking of silky black hair and emerald eyes, she began to sob, burying her face in her pillow. Something brushed her hand as she did so, and she sat up momentarily to examine it.

 

It was a slip of paper, rolled and held together by a signet ring bearing the royal sigil.

 

_ We have only just begun,  _ it read in flawless calligraphy.  _ I will make you my queen _ .

 

And just like that, (y/n)’s bosom was filled with hope and relief, and she knew that last night was no dream.

 

Last night had been the beginning of a new era. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone was wondering, the phrase "Absolute power corrupts absolutely" is attributed to John Emerich Edward Dalberg-Acton. I am also sorry if you have to bleach your eyes now. Don't sue me.


End file.
